


Two-Step

by natlet



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-27
Updated: 2006-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-03 01:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natlet/pseuds/natlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney can't dance. Cadman wants to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two-Step

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of loosely inspired by a challenge at [sga_flashfic](http://community.livejournal.com/sga_flashfic), but never posted there. A million hearts to Amitee for the squee.

"Why do you think it's going to be - "

"Because it always is!" He waved his fork through the air; across the table, Sheppard ducked, a little theatrically, and McKay shot him a glare. "Last time I went to a dance I ended up barefoot with my wallet and my date stolen."

"And that was when," Sheppard asked around a slightly-too-large mouthful, "In fifth grade?"

"Seventh," Rodney muttered.

Sheppard smiled, shrugged. "Maybe it'll go better this time."

"Not likely."

"Maybe you just need some help."

"I don't need help. Nobody could help me."

"Maybe Cadman knows how to dance," he smirked.

He glared at John for a full ten-count before standing up so forcefully he had to lurch to catch the chair before it tipped to the ground.

*

"No."

Cadman shrugged. "Fine. Embarrass yourself, then."

She was halfway down the corridor before he'd processed enough to bristle and shout after her, "I am not going to embarrass myself!" She paused, turned back to him, tiny smile dancing around the corners of her mouth. "I hate you," he said helplessly.

"Does that mean you want me to teach you?"

"You're - you're a parasite. You're that girl who tells all the other girls they're pretty but behind their backs she's sleeping with their boyfriends."

Cadman was laughing now, really laughing, and Rodney couldn't glare any harder if he tried. "You think I'm sleeping with your boyfriend, McKay?"

"No! I don't - I mean - "

"I didn't know you and Carson were going out," and he couldn't even look at her for a minute, just sort of... waved his hands at her in irritation.

"Look," he said. "Did you come here to help, or did you come here to berate me?"

"A little of both, actually," she replied, and pushed her way past him into his room.

*

"Rodney, no, it's - it's one two three, one two three, like that - " Her hand was tight on his hip as she dragged him around the floor, and he squirmed, trying to get her to loosen her fingers.

"Well, I'm trying, if you'd just - your feet are where my feet need to be - " He stumbled and she caught him, her hands firm on his forearms, and he looked at her crossly. "I know how to do this, you know."

She gave him a look that clearly said she did not believe that for one second, nudged him until he settled his hand back on her hip. "If you don't want me to help - "

"It's not that I don't - "

" - because I mean, I can just leave, and you can - what?" He'd pulled back, could feel himself looking at her strangely. "What, McKay?"

"Your hair," he said. "What did you do to it?"

Cadman frowned at him. "What makes you think I did something?"

"It's - it's different," and without even really thinking he was reaching out, running his fingers along her hair, from the top of her head down to the tips of the strands.

"Hey," she murmured, but she didn't move back, and he wasn't sure why but suddenly he wanted to kiss her very, very badly. "I thought I was teaching you how to dance."

"You are," he murmured, and before he gave himself a chance to think about what he was doing, he leaned forward and slid his lips over hers.

And she laughed, she actually - pulled back and looked him square in the eye and laughed at him, like he was a puppy or a four year old or - "What could you possibly be - "

"Your face, McKay," she said, "You're just, you can't hide anything - " and she was still shaking her head and smiling but she was leaning in and kissing him again with her soft little mouth and he brought his hands up to cradle her face and drew her in, closer.

Tongue and teeth and her lips were smooth, unchapped - some little, detached part of his brain told him to ask her about that, later - and he slid his hands down her sides, palmed her ass and said "Take your pants off," his voice rough and strange.

"Yeah," she said, "Okay," and as she crossed his little room toward the bed she pulled her shirt up and over her head, one-handed, tossing it recklessly across his desk, and part of him bristled while the rest of him fixed on the smooth, white expanse of her back, the spark in her eye as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

"Cadman," he said, following her, fingers scrabbling clumsily at the hem of his shirt. She'd stopped just short of the bed, and as she stepped out of her pants she bent over just a little and he said "Oh, wow, Cadman - "

"Rodney," and he couldn't talk any more because she was pressing up against him and pushing his shirt up and her hands left electric trails across his skin. She fought his shirt over his head, smoothed his hair down, rubbed her cheek against his collarbone. "Call me Laura when I'm naked," she murmured, mouthing his neck, pushing him toward the bed.

He sprawled out heavily and she was over him, quickly, her hair draping and veiled over her face, tickling his chest. "Oh," he breathed as she slid down his body, "Oh, C - Laura, you're making me stupid, you've got to stop- " and he couldn't even think about talking because he couldn't see, he could barely breathe, she was doing ridiculous things with her mouth and he was sure he'd lost at least twenty IQ points already, but it suddenly seemed - sort of minor.

*

"McKay," she murmured, later. "My leg's asleep."

"Please," he yawned, "do forgive me for trying to be comfortable in my own bed." Pause. "What happened to Rodney?"

"Sent him away," she said, from somewhere near his chest. She squirmed in his arms until she could look up at him; her hair was wild across her face and he slid his fingers through it, tucking it back behind her neck. "He was a little - simple, don't you think?"

He snorted, hooking his knee over her thighs. "Don't even," he said. "You'll be in the corridor before you know it."

"You gonna at least give me a chance to get dressed?" He tried to look undecided, and she chuckled, bumped her head against his chin. "Go to sleep," she said, settling back against him. He could tell already that he was going to have a hell of a sore back when he woke up, and she was messing up the alignment between the sheets and the blankets in a way he knew was going to give him a headache and none of it made any sense at all, but he was tired and he closed his eyes, breathed in the artificial floral of her shampoo and fell asleep with her drooling on his shoulder.

*

"From the way he was resisting, I thought he didn't know how to dance or something," Elizabeth murmured, leaning in, her shoulder just bumping against Sheppard's. "He looks fine."

John watched them for a second. "Practice makes perfect, I guess."


End file.
